OK, assholes, but you’ll never kill me with your lies.I’m might still go down fighting. But afterwards I’ll rise.

You still don’t get it, do you? I’m so much more than meI’m in each X chromosome, and in every star and tree

In each vagina, every womb, every milky breastIn every groan of labor, and every final rest

She is me, and I am SHE, and we’ve already wonWE are stronger, WE endure, beyond the sword and gun

WE are birthing, even now, a realm you cannot seeWE are mighty, sacred, fearsome… andWEAREFREE.

(Note: This is a poem of overall experience, and has nothing to do with my wonderfully pro-feminist husband.)

Trelawney Grenfell-Muir teaches courses about Sex, Dating, Marriage, and Work in the Religion and Theological Studies Department at Merrimack College and about Cross Cultural Conflict in the Department of Conflict Resolution, Human Security, and Global Governance at the University of Massachusetts, Boston. A Senior Discussant at the Religion and the Practices of Peace Initiative at Harvard University, she holds an M.Div. from the Boston University School of Theology with a concentration in Religion and Conflict, and a Ph.D. in Conflict Studies and Religion with the University Professors Program at Boston University. Previously a fellow at the Institute of Culture, Religion, and World Affairs and at the Earhart Foundation, Grenfell-Muir has conducted field research in situations of ongoing conflict in Syria, Lebanon, and Northern Ireland. Her dissertation explores the methodology, constraints, and effectiveness of clergy peacebuilders in Northern Ireland. She has been an invited speaker in community settings and at MIT, Boston University, Tufts, and Boston College on topics of gender violence, economic injustice, and religious or ethnic conflicts and has also moderated panels on genetic engineering, cloning, and other bioethics issues. She currently writes articles, book chapters, and liturgical resources about feminist, nature-based Christianity.

Thanks Natalie, so good where you say: “I have found myself often returning to that little bit of wisdom.” And that precious “little bit” reminds me also of all sorts of deep, wonderful haiku. Here’s one I love by a Japanese nun, Chiyo-ni (born 1703) — and where she says —

And thank you so much Trelawney! And so important where you say, “but my tears didn’t heal, some of them still bleed.” Regards our anger — our Feminist Rage — I left that anger behind one day, and simply refused to let sexism exhaust me any further. Truly that seems to me the best defense and healthiest answer we can have. And maybe even the most productive.

Thank you, Fran! I’m so glad you found a path to balanced wellness. That’s wonderful! I find if I let my rage wash in and wash out, I am able to leave it behind and move forward. So whenever it comes, I allow it to wash in, then wash out. Like grief – because really, rage and grief are often the same thing. Bless your journey. <3

Sharon, thank you. A wise woman taught me this years ago, and I agree, it is like ocean waves, washing up on the shore, then receding. It helps me enormously. A poem sounds like a great idea, thanks for thinking of it. <3

Thank you, Diana! Bless you!! It really helps me to write something like this so there is a container for this feeling – so when I feel this feeling again, I can pull up this poem and read it, and that makes space for the feeling to wash in and be honored. When I’m good and ready, the feeling washes out again, and I can move on to other feelings and ideas, and so rage doesn’t feel like ALL there is, doesn’t take over my life. I am reading it with you, sister!!! Thank you for reading it with me!! Thank you for walking with me along this road, through this valley! Bless your journey. <3 <3

By the way I am so heartbroken by these words because they scream out against the next generation of young women who are trying to grow up in this culture of woman hatred without having ACCESS to a body they could love: